


All I have are regrets

by FelicityOverwatch



Series: Arrow-verse Flommy AU [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: And a doctor, F/M, Tommy is alive, Undertaking, couples fighting, flommy, slight language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 18:09:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9778430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FelicityOverwatch/pseuds/FelicityOverwatch
Summary: The Undertaking is coming.Felicity Smoak is tasked with telling Tommy his father is involved.She might not have a boyfriend by the end of it.Hell, she might not even be alive....





	

**Author's Note:**

> Bad summary is bad.  
> I'm so used to roleplaying I've kinda lost my fanfic skills. But I'm trying! 
> 
> Set in an AU-verse (based off a current roleplay with a friend) where Tommy is basically a pleasant mix of the Tommy we love and Connor Rhodes from Chicago Med. 
> 
> First in a series of one-shots and other little snippets based in this 'verse we've created where Tommy gets the bubbly blonde IT girl because Flommy is the best kind of non-canon drug. 
> 
> Background needed: Seasons 1 and 2 for the show were kinda flip-flopped around. Tommy returned home to Starling in 2013 to start his trauma fellowship at Starling General. After a fight with Laurel (the active Black Canary) and Oliver in the Foundry one night, Felicity stomped up to the bar and attempted to swipe a bottle of wine. Tommy found her, the two slept together, he was intrigued and asked her out on a date. Things went well and they became a steady couple (No one knows but Thea). Months passed, Team Arrow suspected Malcolm was up to something and Felicity broke into Merlyn Global one night. It went badly, Malcolm snagged her and held her captive for days, during which time he used her phone to send texts to Tommy making him believe she was in love with Oliver and had left him so he wouldn't notice her disappearance. The Arrow saved her, she resolved things with Tommy, and they moved into the Loft together.

 

 

This day was not going well. By any means.

It had started with a spilled coffee. A fresh, very hot, coffee. One that spilled all down her front. Making her late to work when she had to grab a change of clothes. Mercifully, she kept a small go bag in her car, one with an additional work appropriate outfit just in case things got messy. Still, it wasn't exactly a reassuring way to start her day. It was hard to come back from something like that. And the tiny burn on her stomach from the scalding liquid was just a cruel and unusual reminder. And, _of course,_ the fabric of her clean dress kept rubbing it just so, making motion painful. Seriously. The universe was a mean place sometimes. 

Then came a day of messed up schedules. She prided herself on being a good EA. Sure, she hated the job, thought it was way below her capabilities, but Oliver had said he needed her and she strove to be the best right hand woman she could be. So when her perfectly timed and meticulous schedule was ruined by incapable asshats who overstepped their positions, she tended to get annoyed. Very, very annoyed. Verging on Loud Voice in the office annoyed. Meetings had been cancelled or moved around, and the whole day was just turned on its head. Thankfully, the severe lack of meetings in the afternoon meant time for Oliver to catch up on paperwork and gave her a chance to decompress and work on other things, but still. It was the point of it all. No one messed with her shit. _She_  was Oliver's EA. Felicity Smoak. Not Karen in HR or Bobby in....whatever department that creep worked in. And certainly not Samson in Applied Sciences, that fucking tool. But whatever. Things happened and she had already been given the universes warning from hell via a scalding coffee spilled on her that today was just not going to be her day. After a lunch she had barely eaten- she had managed about two bites of her salad before all hell broke loose with other work things that needed her attention- the rest of the universes shitstorm decided to descend. An alert went off on her tablet, the distinct chime of Arrow-related business having her diving for the device. Something had been found. Something major. Her stomach dropped, the woman scrambling to Oliver's office. 

"I've got something. And it doesn't look good." She had said in way of greeting, both Oliver's baby blues and Digg's dark eyes fixing her with concern. 

They wrapped up things at QC earlier than usual, Felicity faking an important business dealing with him across town so the trio could scramble out of the office and to the Lair. She spent the next couple hours combing through evidence on her babies in the Foundry, her stomach dropping further and further to her toes. Malcolm Merlyn. Moira Queen. Unidac. An old map in the notebook. The Glades. The Undertaking. Oliver had sent her home as he poured over more information, seeing the distress in the woman. He clearly figured her kidnap via Malcolm had a lot to do with it. The information they had just gotten was the compilation of most of what she had stolen from Merlyn Global and piecing it together had been long and taxing. If only he knew how deeply it ran. Not only was Merlyn planning something truly awful, but now she had the horrible task of telling Tommy. Sure, Oliver was aware her and Tommy knew one another. That they were friendly. That he was aware she worked with Oliver as the Arrow and was elbow deep in all the vigilante goodness of the city. That they talked shop and she kept him in the Arrow-loop since his relationship with Oliver was so strained and very un-friendly at the moment. But Oliver still didn't know they were dating. Didn't know they lived together. Shared every bit of their lives with one another. 

Wiping sweaty palms down the side of her dress, she sucked in a breath before sliding her key into the lock and opening the door to the Loft. Tommy was bustling about the living room area, clearly cleaning up the remains of the dinner he had made. Or ordered. Clearly Italian, if the smell of garlic was anything to go by. He was dressed simply, a tight t-shirt clinging to all the right places, giving a taunting hint of the fleur-de-lis tattoo she liked to nibble, and designer jeans hugging his muscular, if not thin, legs. He slid a little across the floor in his socked feet, looking totally calm and relaxed as he hummed to himself. And she was just about to destroy all of it. He glanced up as she tossed her keys into the tiny bowl next to the door, setting her purse down. 

"You're home early." He said surprised, but a soft smile was on his face, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Figured you'd be gone tonight so I didn't wait for you for dinner. I'm sorry. I ordered for you, though! I'll heat it up. Get comfortable, beautiful." Upon really looking her over, the expression slid from his face as he set his dirty bowls down. "Everything okay? You look....." he paused. "I'm trying to think of something polite that won't get me in trouble," he finished sheepishly. 

She managed a small smile back, but it was shaky at best, almost pained. "We need to talk."

"Oh-kay." He looked suddenly nervous, shifting on his feet. "That sounds bad. Nothing good follows 'we need to talk'." 

"Can we sit?"

"I think I'd rather stand." 

She nodded jerkily, wringing her hands. "Right. Yes, okay. Uhm. Wow. How to start this." Her gaze met his, his blue eyes darkened with worry. "It's not about us!" She blurted out quickly. "We're fine. I mean, I think we are. We are right now, at least. After what I tell you.....well, we might not be so fine then. It depends really. There's like a million ways this could go. I thought of about a dozen of them on my way home. And they were not fun, let me tell you."

"Lis. Please. What's going on?" He asked softly, cutting off her babbles. He stepped closer, a hand settling on her bicep and trailing down her bare arm to gently take her hand. "What is it? Are you okay? Is...is it Ollie?" His heart sank. Oh god. Something had happened between her and Oliver. She was still in love with him. Too in love with him. She was going to leave him, despite the assurances that it wasn't about them and that they were fine. This was it. The blow he had been bracing for unconsciously. It was Laurel all over again.

As if sensing what was going through her boyfriends mind, she gave his hand a squeeze. "It's not Oliver. He's fine. And I am too. I'm totally fine. I mean...mostly fine. Halfway fine. Quarter of the way fine?" She huffed, shaking her head. "Okay, I'm kind of not fine. But probably not the way you're thinking."

"Felicity, can we start getting to the actual point. Please?"

"Right. Yes. Of course." She sucked in a breath, searching his face. His eyes were worried, the man resembling a caged animal. He looked tense, ready to bolt or cry or rage. She chewed her lip for a moment, nodding. "Right. Okay. So...." She cut off, swallowing thickly. "You remember my kidnapping? Of course you do, right. Sorry. Silly question. So, before your father nabbed me, I was....I had broken into Merlyn Global. I needed information. We....for months we suspected your father was part of something. Something big. Something bigger than the whole Dark Archer thing. Something totally separate from that. _Malcolm_ was plotting something, not the Archer. It all ties back to Oliver's father and things that happened pre-Gambit," she explained awkwardly. "We've been getting bits and pieces of things here and there. Things that didn't feel right, hints at something big being planned, things that just didn't add up or went missing or...yeah. It's complicated, the whole back story, and it would take way too long to explain the whole thing and most of it you wouldn't care about or understand or want to know-"

"Lis.."

"Sorry. Look, there's no easy way to say this. We....tonight, we found something. _I_  found something. I was able to get a lot of information off his servers when I broke into your father's company. It took a while to piece it all together because I split the information when things went South. But it all pieced together tonight and....Tommy," she paused, looking up at him, her eyes pained. She squeezed his hand, a lump rising in her throat. "Tommy, your father is planning on leveling the Glades. Destroying half the city to get rid of what he, and many other elites in this city, believes is ruining Starling. Poisoning it. He...he wants revenge and he's going to destroy the Glades to get it."

Tommy was silent for a moment, finally giving a choked laugh. "You're not serious with this, right? This is some elaborate joke. You can't possibly be....wait, you're serious?"

"As a heart attack," she responded, grimacing. "That's the phrase right? Serious as a heart attack?"

"No. No this...I mean, I know my father isn't exactly the best guy, he's not really winning any awards, except that pretty unexpected Humanitarian Award, but no. Felicity, what you're talking about...no, there's no way. It's a mistake."

"Tommy, it isn't. It's not a mistake. We found the evidence of it. Plans, money being put aside for something, communications between him and several others about something called the Undertaking." 

"My father is a jerk, but he's not a mass murderer."

"Not yet. But he's going to be. He's been planning this for years."

"No!" He wrenched his hand from hers, pacing away from her, his hands digging into his hair. "No! I-I don't believe it."

"Tommy, he closed your mother's clinic. He's....he's been slowly pulling other support your family's company gave out of there for years, slow enough that no one noticed." Her boyfriend shook his head, his back tense. "He...He also..." She paused, licking her lips nervously. "He also took part in killing Robert Queen."

He stiffened, his shoulders drawing up, he turned, eyes flashing. " _What?"_ he asked lowly. "Robert drowned. In a freak accident. The boat sank and he drowned. My best friend almost drowned with him!"

"It wasn't an accident, Tommy." She muttered, heartbroken. "The _Gambit_ going down wasn't an accident. It was brought down. Your father....he sabotaged the boat. Or hired someone to. I don't know. But your father....your father _killed_ one of his best friends in this world and he tried to kill Oliver."

"No! He wouldn't _do that!_ He loved Robert. And Moira. He wouldn't...he wouldn't have hurt them like that! And he wouldn't have done anything to Ollie. Ollie was...look, I'm not an idiot. I know he wishes Ollie had been his son instead of me. Ollie was what he thought a son should be. He was disappointed in me, thought I was too weak, but Ollie wasn't. There's no way...he wouldn't have....... _no!"_

"Tommy, I am so sorry. I am. But he did. Robert....he was going back on things and Malcolm and the others couldn't have that. So to ensure cooperation, they had him killed. They...they had Robert murdered so they could keep a hold on Moira. Oliver wasn't meant to be there, wasn't on the passenger list as far as Malcolm knew. But he was acceptable collateral damage."

"You're lying!"

"I wish I were. Tommy, I wish I was lying or that this was a mistake. I wish none of this was happening, but it is."

"How could you say this! Moira may have been misguided sometimes, but she never would have gone along with anything!"

"Think about it Tommy! They had her husband and son murdered. They probably threatened Thea..." Thea. Malcolm's daughter. And Tommy still didn't know. Tommy was still oblivious to the fact that the girl he treated like a sister, loved and protected like a sister, looked after like a sister when her father and brother died, was actually his blood too. 

"She was just a little girl! They wouldn't have..."

"They blew up a boat and killed how many innocents just to shut up one man. You really think these people would have been against threatening a little girl?" She asked sadly. 

He scrubbed his hands through his messy hair again, his whole body screaming with pain and anger. "No. No. My father....I've seen him kill but they were going to kill me. He did it to protect me. H-he......" He wouldn't, right? He wouldn't kill his best friend. He wouldn't have Oliver and Sara Lance become collateral damage in that once it was known they had snuck aboard. He wouldn't kill thousands of innocent people, either. But maybe he would. That was the scariest part. Sure, out loud he denied it, but deep down there was a small voice telling him that maybe it wasn't so out there to believe. His father had changed in the two years post-Rebecca dying when he had disappeared. He had become detached. Colder. More calculated and darker. He had returned home a completely different man. One Tommy hadn't recognized. One he still didn't recognize. But....but still. He wouldn't murder thousands for just one. Even if that one had been the woman he had loved. Right? 

"Tommy, I am so sorry. I am. I really, really am. But your father is planning something. And Moira was in on it too." 

"She's _dead."_ He snapped bitterly. "I know you didn't like her but she's dead and you're.....you're dragging her name into things that you shouldn't be!"

"I know she's dead! Tommy, I sat and watched Oliver tear himself apart when Slade murdered her! You think I don't know! I was at her funeral! But just because she's dead doesn't mean she's guilt free! She did terrible things, was part of horrible things. She let them murder her husband! She hired someone to kidnap Oliver when he got back to see what he knew! She let them kidnap Walter! She was not a saint. Far from it. And she was elbow deep in whatever this Undertaking is."

"How do you know? Huh? What evidence did you steal to prove anything?" He sneered, his voice dripping with something ugly. 

"She was using QC resources."

"Of course she used QC resources! It was her fucking company!"

"Millions of dollars went missing, Tommy! That doesn't just accidentally happen. And applied sciences was doing off the books work! For her!" 

"So!?"

"So? So, Tommy! Projects in divisions like that have to have at least approval! Hard copies of someone signing off on their work and approving a budget. And there's nothing! They're building some sort of machine or something and there is no record of it whatsoever."

"You're lying!"

"I wouldn't lie to you! Especially not about something like this! Tommy, your father is going to destroy the Glades. He is going to kill thousands of people because he's angry about something that happened over twenty years ago. Your father is....sick."

"No! I don't....I don't believe you! He wouldn't. He's not a good man, he's flawed and broken and has done shit things in his life but he wouldn't do this!"

"Tommy, he kidnapped me and tried to kill me to stop us from finding out! Or have you forgotten that!? He pretended to be me, said horrible things to you over _t_ _ext messages_ so you wouldn't notice I was missing, and then planned on killing me! So I wouldn't find this. We have proof of what he's planning! Please believe me, Tommy." She stepped towards him, reaching for him. 

"Don't touch me!" He snapped, pulling his arm away, the words like a physical blow to her. She stepped away, her eyes wide. "I need air." He moved around her, stuffing his feet into a pair of his work sneakers and wrenching his pea coat off the small hook by the door. 

"Tommy, please. I know this is a lot to take in, I know you're upset but...."

"NO!" He turned to her halfway through shoving his wallet and phone in his pockets. "Don't." His voice was low, his eyes flashing dangerously. "I don't want to hear another _word._ I don't want to listen to another lie. God, I was preparing myself for you to say something like you cheated on me or you were leaving. I think I would have preferred that to this. That would have hurt a hell of a lot less."

"Tommy...." She croaked out, the air rushing from her. Oh god. That was like a punch in the gut. With brass knuckles.  

"I need air. I need....I need to be alone." With that, he scooped up his keys and left, slamming the door behind him. She stared at it for several long minutes, her frame shaking, tears spilling down her cheeks. A ragged sob working its way out of her finally broke the spell, cutting through the silence of the loft. She crumpled to her knees, finally letting the days absolute shit settle over her like a blanket. A suffocating blanket.

She spent the night on the sofa, refusing to go to their bedroom. She couldn't bear sleeping there alone. Not after this. And Tommy? Tommy never came home. She woke to an empty, still apartment, not a single change since she had cried herself to sleep. He had just disappeared. Left to do god knows what. Left angry and hurting. And she was powerless.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The next several days passed....slowly. Painfully. She dove into her work, refusing to let herself have any idle moments. She checked her phone almost obsessively, but nothing came. No calls, no emails, no texts. Nothing. He seemed to duck in and out of the loft when he knew she wouldn't be there, grabbing his stuff for work and then disappearing like a thief in the night. She had clearly just missed him a few days later when she stepped in, the smell of his cologne heavy throughout the loft, bringing a fresh wave of hysterical sobs she had been fighting off and couldn't stop if she had wanted to. She made it a point to be there as little as possible, just as he did, unable to bear being there alone without him. The loft was too cold, too quiet without him. The fight seemed to linger like a tangible thing, making the air feel heavy and oppressive. Cold and wrong. One night she even stayed in the Foundry, curling up on the bed she had bought Oliver, desperate for some sleep but too broken to try and find it in the too large bed without her warm, cuddle-prone boyfriend. Or the lonely sofa. The team said nothing, merely watched her in concern, whispering and speculating, as she nearly worked herself to death. Stopping Malcolm. That was her only focus. Nothing else mattered. They had time. The plan had been brewing this long and it seemed it would keep going for longer while the final pieces came in to play. She'd figure out exactly what he was planning and they would stop him. No lives lost. Nothing would happen. And maybe, just maybe, Tommy would forgive her in time. When they stopped it with no bloodshed. 

But, clearly, that was not meant to be.

One slip up, one tiny mistake on her part brought the whole thing crashing down on them. It had been nearly a week since their discovery. Tommy had been working as many hours as possible to stay away from her, obviously sleeping somewhere else to avoid having to come home at all. Felicity, likewise, had thrown herself into both jobs, barely pausing for air, sucking down more coffee than was probably healthy to keep herself at least semi-functioning. They had discovered carefully hidden blueprints for a machine while combing through the dark recesses of Malcolm and Moira's old files, an earthquake machine of sorts. One that would definitely bring horrible destruction to an already half crumpling Glades. That side of town barely stood a chance and it was terrifying to even fathom. They had to do something, had to learn more, needed to discover a hidden weakness or something. And that's when Felicity slipped. She couldn't pinpoint the mistake exactly. Didn't know what she had done or not done that had caused the domino effect from hell. But Malcolm had discovered her poking around his systems. Somehow, he knew she had hacked in to his servers for more. And with that, the event that should have been months away had been changed. Pushed up. Put into almost immediate effect. A former colleague of Malcolm's had come out on live television to warn people, but the damage was done. The Undertaking was happening. 

Laurel had been unreachable most of the day, no doubt working or doing something of her own. Which was fine. They may have needed all hands on deck, but they could work without the Black Canary for a night if they had to. Thea had informed all the Verdant workers that the club was closed and urged them to gather their families and other loved ones and leave. After that, her and Roy had suited up and ducked out with the task of getting as many people out of the city as possible. Digg and Oliver would be going after Malcolm personally. When Oliver had so seriously looked at her and told her to get out, she replied with the words she would come to mildly regret.

 

_"If you're not leaving, I'm not leaving."_

If he wouldn't leave, if he wouldn't abandon this city, she wouldn't either. She had been on this team for nearly two years. Had been through a hell of a lot more than this. She was not abandoning them, or this city, now. Not for her own safety. Plus, if she didn't stay and try to figure out how to shut the machine down, who would? She was the only one qualified. So, she had perched at her desk, fingers poised over the keyboard. Her cellphone caught her attention, her tongue darting out to nervously lick her lips. With a hesitant hand, she plucked up the device and stared at it for several long moments as Oliver suited up and left with Diggle. Finally, she pulled up a blank text to Tommy.  

**_Stay out of the Glades. It happens_ _tonight_ _._**  

Her stomach clenched painfully as she hit the send button, a lump rising in her throat. She didn't expect a response and she didn't get one, but at least she had tried. She needed him safe. Sure, he wasn't exactly one to just cruise around the Glades, not unless he was doing work on the club with Thea, but she just....she needed to. Needed to send that to him. Not that it would make an ounce of difference. Not that he'd care. Hell, he probably wouldn't even read it. Once he saw her name, he'd probably delete it outright. But at least she tried. Not that it would do any good. He would be in the Glades that night, having picked up a ride along shift in an ambo. Of all nights.....

Sliding her phone to the side, she turned to the task at hand. Comm firmly in her ear and connected to the team and Lance, who they had called in, she typed away at her computer as the city fell to pieces around them. And if Felicity had ever thought she experienced true terror before, that night was about to prove just how wrong she was. The victory of shutting the device down fell hollow. Sure, they had stopped one, but Malcolm had been several steps ahead of them. Several, terrifying steps. 

"There's another device..." She muttered brokenly, guilt settling heavily over her as Lance cursed darkly in her ear. "I-I failed."

"He got away. The Archer got away," Oliver's clipped voice came over the comms, low and angered. Not at her. God no. At himself. His own failing. "Diggs hurt. I'm sending him to the hospital. I'm going to try and find Laurel. I think I know where she is...." His voice cut off, a deep rumble working it's way through the city. The other device activating. Oh god. 

Malcolm had won. His quest for vengeance, his thirst for blood, would be satisfied that night. And it was all her fault.

Which seemed fitting now that she realized the device was closer to Verdant. She had worked so hard to stop it. And her failure would probably, quite literally, bring her death. 

The ground began to rumble more, things clattering and swaying in the Foundry around her. Concrete began to rain down in small bursts, the woman giving a yelp. "I'm so sorry, Oliver. I'm so sorry." 

She sent a small, silent apology to Tommy, knowing she would probably never see him again, Digg and Oliver's voices calling frantically to her over her earpiece. 

All she had wanted was to be a hero. Some hero she was.....


End file.
